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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999533">My Guardian Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwc/pseuds/mwc'>mwc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot, One Kill [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel Wings, Angst, Assassin's Creed: Unity, Cafe Theatre, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Français | French, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jacob is a flirt, Jacob is just all angst in this, M/M, Oblivious, Paris (City), Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Tags Are Hard, Unintentionally, Wingfic, Wings are symbolic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:47:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwc/pseuds/mwc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wings hold great significance for those who have them. Not everyone does, but those who do sprout them at significant points in their lives. For some, it's a great achievement or reaching a new level of themselves. For others, it's the passing of a loved one or suffering great grief. For a few, it's a symbolic moment of realization.</p><p>The Fryes have always had a strong lineage of wings, the degree to which is rather uncommon. For Jacob Frye to be denied his own glorious wings takes more out of him than he anticipates. If he'll never have wings, he'll never be happy. </p><p>That is, until he meets his own guardian angel in Paris...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arno Dorian/Jacob Frye, Arno Dorian/Élise de la Serre (Mentioned), Evie Frye/Henry Green | Jayadeep Mir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot, One Kill [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Guardian Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm digging up some really old files and trying to revive them because I think it deserves it. It's the least I can give to this fandom and this particular ship now that I'm no longer so shy to post my work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jacob Frye had only seen him in passing, so he has long forgotten even his name. His sister Evie knew the couple, at least, so he had a vague enough connection to say he knew them too. Jacob himself didn't get close enough to the boyfriend, not thinking he would ever meet either of them again. However, Evie was friends with Élise, so they stayed in contact while they studied abroad in Paris.</p><p>Evie was always keen on the smallest of details. She studied wings as a minor hobby that only grew while they stayed in Paris. Meeting Élise was the perfect example, piecing together the symbolism of her <q>rebirth</q> being so young. The passionate redhead always strutted about with flaming red wings - literally, for she had grown her phoenix wings when she was ten. Apparently. Most phoenix types grow their wings when they realize their independence and are reborn into who they're supposed to be, and all that load of crap.</p><p>Evie took her studies way too hard, if you ask her brother.</p><p>But Jacob didn't really care then, and he's not sure he entirely cares now. Even if Élise's boyfriend sulks in the wake of her passing. </p><p>He understands; death is heavy, and no one likes losing someone close. However Jacob never let his father's death get to him, or even the idea of losing, heaven forbid, Evie. The thoughts skimming his mind alone would drive him insane. So in self-preservation, he hides those feelings. Ignores them, as he so often does with any unwanted feelings. </p><p>It becomes a problem, though, when he grows lonely. Evie has since moved out to live with Henry Green - a shy Indian man who managed to charm her with his books and nerdiness - and Jacob, well, has dated too many women to count.</p><p>In fact, that's why he's here, in a rather large French café, tapping his fingers on his teacup, waiting for his date. </p><p>Every so often his gaze sweeps the room. Some couples lean in to hear each other over the din in the recessed floor. A few shallow steps up, the booths along the walls hold groups of friends gossiping or a family out for breakfast. A smile pulls at his lips as he watches a young boy reach his little arms great lengths to steal some sugar cubes. </p><p><em>Sneaky little runt,</em> Jacob jokes to himself, knowing himself to be that boy two decades ago. For as much as Evie and him never got along, it was always a disaster when the twins teamed up in devious endeavours.</p><p>By now his tea has chilled to room temperature and his date is obviously beyond late, possibly not even showing. As Jacob stands to leave, he nearly runs into someone trying to pass him, heading towards the door to the estate.</p><p><q>Hey, sorry,</q> Jacob tries to reconcile his initial temper. <q>I don't think you're allowed…</q> Jacob trails off as he faces the man. </p><p>Bright amber eyes stare up at him, a faint scar crossing the bridge of his nose. Long hair a little darker than his eyes is tied back in a neat red ribbon, crisp blue suit coat and red ascot pressed against a lean form. He can’t be more than a few centimeters shorter than him. But that isn't what catches his eye.</p><p>Full, bright angel wings cut through all the calming dark woods and accents in the café. In the sunlight, the very tips of his wings sparkles and glows, as if radiating themselves. Jacob blinks a few times to adjust to the light, just now noticing the frown and the crease in the man's brow.</p><p><q>I should hope I'm allowed here. I own the place,</q> the man half scoffs with a ruffle of iridescent feathers, making his status known. </p><p>Floundering, Jacob takes a moment to keep his jaw from dropping. He has heard of those lucky to have angel wings. Not many are so lucky to see them. Something, something, death of someone close, Evie told him. Not that he was really ever listening to her.</p><p><q>Well,</q> Jacob haplessly starts. <q>I shall not impede you, Your Grace,</q> he jokingly half bows, but half of it feels like instinct. </p><p>There's no way in hell a person with angel wings isn't actually an angel sent from Heaven above. The man quirks one of his eyebrows, examining Jacob. He feels oddly vulnerable to the glowing amber gaze.</p><p><q>I prefere <q>mon ange</q>,</q> the angel corrects, fluent French and accent even smoother than his perfect English. He offers no other words than a coy smirk at his own joke, and continuing past and through the door. </p><p>Jacob’s feet turn to stone. The breeze of his wings leaves him feeling calmer, at peace for half a second before the door closes subtly and the interaction has passed. </p><p>For some reason, however, Jacob cannot shake the man from his mind. He knows of him, sure; he’s Élise's boyfriend, suffering from having no one else in his life. He vaguely remembers that he heard Evie say he owns the café. </p><p>But she didn’t mention anything about him growing wings. He’s an angel, and by God does he want to know his name.</p>
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